


A Brilliant Man

by Myx



Category: Cabin Pressure
Genre: Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Fandom Trumps Hate, Gen, MJN Air, MJN Air Is A Family, Martin Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-01
Updated: 2019-02-01
Packaged: 2019-10-20 08:59:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,334
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17619419
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Myx/pseuds/Myx
Summary: Martin is down on his luck (again), but this time seems to be a lot worse than the other times.





	A Brilliant Man

**Author's Note:**

  * For [88thParallel (CanadaHolm)](https://archiveofourown.org/users/CanadaHolm/gifts).



> I own nothing.

Martin stared blankly at his computer, barely taking in the overly colorful congratulatory message for having beaten the flight simulator game (again). He quit the game, turned off his dinosaur of a computer, and slowly padded back to his bed, the blanked that he had wrapped himself in, dragging as he went. He flopped onto the lumpy and slightly mildew-y smelling mattress and stared at his ceiling. He thought about getting up to go and grab an old flight magazine that Arthur had given him (okay, Arthur might have ~~'taken it without asking the guy at the counter's permission, but it was so old, that there's _no_ way that he would care if it were gone,'~~ stolen it as a 'just because you're brilliant, Skip' present, but that required energy. Energy was an extremely valuable resource in Martin's life, at the moment.  Martin turned his head towards the wall and looked up at his calendar and counted the various little marks that he had made on the calendar.

Ten days.

It had been ten days since he had flown.

And, to add insult to injury, it had been 8 days since he had a man with a van job. It was in the dead of winter in Fitton, and no one wants to move (literally, or otherwise) when the temperature outside is colder than Siberia. Martin's near perpetual survival mode when it came to rations had gone into hyperdrive. He hadn't heard from Carolyn in over a week, and he hadn't gotten any enquiries about his man with a van rates in about the same amount of time. Glancing over at his makeshift kitchen area next to his computer, he figured he had maybe another 5 days of food left. He might be able to stretch it a bit longer than 5 days, but he didn't want to think about how long possibly make a single can of beans last. 

_Fsssst. Fssssst. Fsssssst._

Martin rolled over and grabbed his phone that was hiding underneath his quilt that was haphazardly thrown off to the side. 

"Hullo?" Martin asked in a weak voice.

"Martin? Oh goodness, you sound terrible."

"It is nice to talk to you too, Carolyn."

"Oh hush. Now, listen, I just got off the phone with a lovely man who wants us to fly him from Fitton to London tomorrow morning so he can see the London Eye."

"London? But that's-"

"I don't care how short of a flight it is, Martin. We need the work."

"Okay, so-"

"He's paying us 200 quid, each, to do so. He's also willing to throw in accommodations, too."

"To see the _London Eye?_ Doesn't he know that pictures exist of it online... Y'know, that sounds reasonable. I guess, right?"

"Of course it is, Martin. Now, I'll see you bright and early at 5am."

Martin couldn't believe his luck. Not only was he getting work, like real, actual, paying work, but he would be spending the entire  _day_ in London, his favourite city. He decided to celebrate with an entire piece of toast.

The next morning, Carolyn greeted Martin in the cabin of GERTI with a soft gasp. "Martin, are you feeling poorly? You look....well, you don't look great."

Martin gave her a tight lipped smile. "Thanks, Carolyn for those great words."

"No, Martin, but, are you alright?" She took a step closer, shortening the distance between them. "Have you been eating?"

"I'm fine, Carolyn. I promise."

Carolyn clicked her tongue as Martin went into the flight deck to do his typical 'pre flight ritual.' When Douglas and Arthur arrived ten minutes later, since Arthur wanted to ride in Douglas' nice car, Carolyn dragged them into the back galley. 

"Listen, you idiots, we need to do something. I don't think Martin has been eating, and quite frankly, I'm very worried about him. What can we do?"

"Well, Carolyn, you  _do_ know that Martin is a very proud man and might not been too keen on us helping him out."

"Douglas, shut up. He is incredibly pale and looks like a walking ghost."

"Mum, don't be silly; ghosts can't walk."

" _Arthur._ "

"Sorry, its just that, maybe you should've said zombie instead of ghost, yeah? I mean, zombies  _can_ walk, though not very good, but also zombies are just sorta creepy, but-"

"Arthur does have a point, Carolyn." Douglas smirked. 

"Do you have a plan in mind, mum?"

Martin gripped his hands around the yoke and breathed in deeply. As he exhaled, he rolled his shoulders, trying to find quiet in the stormy seas of his brain. There was paperwork that was yet to be done, but he just needed to hang onto the yoke a little bit longer because it almost didn't seem real. He hadn't gone this long without flying since he was trying to put his way through flight school the second time and he needed the reassurance that not only was he going to fly today, but, he was going to be able to make money today. His relationship with money was, and had always been very volatile, but he had learned grin and bear it as he bowed down to the sadistic jerk time and time again. 

"Arraagghhhhhh!" Martin screamed as loud, hard knocking was heard from behind his chair. 

"Hiya, Skip!"

"Martin."

"Martin, do please get out of that silly chair and come into the main cabin, please?"

"But, I need to file the paperwork and-"

"Martin, please."

Shocked at the incredibly rare usage of the word 'please' by Carolyn, Martin released his grip from the yoke and padded into the main cabin. As he stared at the faces of his friends, he couldn't help but notice that they all looked so concerned for him. Douglas' usual smirk was wiped off of his face, Carolyn's eyes, which were usually cold and expressionless until you got close, were fearful, and Arthur's typical toothy grin was gone. They all looked so...so, sad. Martin swallowed hard, bracing himself for whatever bomb Carolyn was going to drop on him.

"Martin, I'm going to be honest, you look downright terrible. You've been pale in the past, but you somehow look thinner. What has been going on?"

Arthur reached out his hand, offering it to Martin in case he wanted to hold it for support and, Martin took it and immediately felt a warmth rush through his body. Arthur nodded and gave him a small smile. 

"Well, Carolyn." Martin paused, and looked at the three of them, all standing in a half circle in front of him, and looked down at Arthur's hand holding onto Martin's hand so delicately. "I'm not doing great. I know I usually have this impossible-to-break shell about me when it comes to my pride, but, my shell is about ready to break."

"Well, when we land in London, I'm going to march you to a Tesco, and I'm going to give you gift cards so you can buy yourself some proper food when we get back into Fitton."

"I don't have much money, Martin, but, if you ever,  _ever_ need a small loan to repair your van, or pay rent, or whatever, you have my number. I mean it, Martin. I know you claim to be some sort of entity not from here, but you're still human. You don't have to do everything yourself."

"And Skip, if you ever need me to do some marketing for your man with a van business, I can just stand on random streets in Fitton and shout "Skip's brilliant man with a van company is brilliant. Hire him!"' 

"Arthur, light of my life, you didn't need to shout that  _right_ now not when we're in a metal tube!"

"Sorry, mum! I was just practising."

"You really mean it? You'll offer me that?"

"Of course, Martin. That's what friends do."

"As much as I hate to say that Douglas is right, Douglas is right, Martin. This is what friends do, and moreover, it is what family does."  


End file.
